I n a country where the cow is ubiquitous, either deified and included in the household as part of tradition by many people, bred and consumed for subsistence by others, or just left to live off trash and roam dusty city roads, the relationship between human being and cow is culturally multidimensional. Although the beef ban in parts of India has raised questions about the secular state, the bovine ballad that shall unfold isn’t just on consumption.
Pongal 2017, a month away, will witness lacklustre colour and joy owing to the review of the 2014 ban on Jallikattu, also known in parts of Tamil Nadu as eruthazhuvuthal or ‘embracing a bull’. The corruption of culture over time, written — or worse, rewritten — to the whims and fancies of the majoritarian many has led to its acknowledgement as a “sport”, as the initial practice of the ritual was in consideration of taming aggressive humped Bos indicus oxen (that animatedly conjure the image of flaring nostrils) as suitable, dominant males for breeding a healthy population of cows. The ritual, much like many others with humble origins in indigenous settings, gained cult status over the course of history, from being periodically mentioned in accounts and inscribed in sculptures. It managed to survive the 200 years of colonial chastisement in the subcontinent, much to the surprise of contemporary thinkers.
The controversial ban on this “cruel male entertainment” was enforced on ethical grounds by the Supreme Court of India in a landmark verdict, thanks to a lobby of animal welfare activists, and the Animal Welfare Board of India. The movement was spearheaded by People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals-India through an intensive campaign and investigation, citing the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals Act, 1960.
The revocation of the ban came owing to significant resistance from pastoralists and activists of traditional practices in view of the anticipated damage to the agrarian economy. The loss of traditional cattle breeds has produced a conundrum in the dialogue between various actors, and extended to pugnacious debates between NGOs, local self-government bodies, the State government and New Delhi.
It is unfair, for a rational student of conservation science, to display a bias to gain a resolution. What first makes the mind aghast is the perceived danger of activists pitted against the other, in a classic case of one-upmanship.
Secondly, the arguments made in favour of or against the ban are equally legitimate, giving both parties a fair share of voice and free thought but share striking commonalities. They are rooted in the conscience of thinkers, in support of people, in the cultural fabric of society, and most importantly, in the interests of the animal itself.
Conservation governance
Herein comes to the fore the need for regulation — not prevention — and thence mutual cooperation for shared “benefits” in this dialogue, necessitating the horizontal division of conservation governance in India, for the inclusion of well-supported reason.
The ideologues of animal ethics essay their role well in arguing against the “torture” of bulls for the sake of tradition, in support of the greater good, accommodating, and involuntarily adding this topic into the kettle of the ethics-related (vegan) soup.
Link to tradition
The other line of support in favour of this form of traditional ecological knowledge seemingly argues for the pastoralists who have tamed (or embraced, as the transliteration dictates) and hence bred cows through the practice, preventing the loss of native breeds such as Kangeyam, Pulikulam, Umbalachery and Malai Maadu in Tamil Nadu.
The traditional keepers of livestock have evidently engaged in this form of conservation, resisting depredations by the western/corporate dairy industry. The earlier utterance of corruption is certainly the point that weakens the case — the practice at large has lost its rubric as an intimate affair, shifting from craft to consumerism, with the sole purpose of taming giving way to a messy affair of (reported) torture and cruelty, thus paving the way for PETA & Co.
Also in question is that artificial insemination and breeding technologies — which are in use among well-heeled agriculturalists — could be further popularised to kindle the sort of attachment to a given breed. However, India (and recently, the U.K. and the U.S.) knows the ramifications of emotional attachment to what is perceived as “culture” and “belonging”: the dangers of the currently trending rhetoric, “give my country(side) back”.
Throughout the history of indigenous people and local communities, the enforcement or mere presence of Western thought is regarded as neo-colonialism — in most cases, according to Thomas F. Thornton in Being and Place Among the Tlingit , it is blamed for deeming tradition with “mechanistic or estranged” views, disparaging the “intimate, enchanted union with the landscape”.
While the animal rights activists sympathise with cows and advocate ethics, in sync with the tone of ahimsa or non-violence that gripped the nation during its struggle for freedom, hasn’t folklore from the native Sangam literature indicated the presence of the system percolating from the Mullai tribes that embraced man-animal interaction for the “management” and “survival” of these species — terms that are commonplace in modern conservation policy? Sustainability should be tested through healthy scepticism; many yesteryear practices were regressive.
As for Pongal in 2017, there is bound to be “a countenance more in sorrow than anger”.
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